Common Reactor
by Maffiette
Summary: Sometimes, the dead just don't want to stay dead. NewGen/YYH Cross over
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note:

This story is going to be mostly HP-centric with the YYH characters playing a minor role until much later. I have messed around with the time lines a little bit, so while this is basically twenty years after the Second Wizarding War the time line for the YYH characters falls just after the victory over Sensui. This is totally incorrect but it's the only way to use both YYH characters and NewGen characters at the same time, so sorry D: To avoid confusing; James is in his seventh year, Rose/Scorpious are in fourth year and Teddy has graduated. Rated M for violence and language in later chapters.

I don't own anything, you know that! D:

Enjoy! 3

**-Chapter One-**

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James had never been able to understand how such a sullen occasion was expected to inspire anyone. His father had tried to play it off as something of a learning experience, because according to The Great Harry Potter the only way to protect the future was to "respect the past". Frankly, James thought it was a terrible way to begin the school year.

The crowd was loosely dispersed across the open clearing, though many chose to stay huddled in groups of two or three huddled under ordinate umbrellas or impervious charms that seemed to serve the same purpose. The harsh rains had turned the once lush field into a marsh, covering the shoes and robes of those who attended the memorial in thick muddy stains. As James trudged up hill, his heavy wool cloak weighing down against his teenage frame, he felt a twinge of bitterness towards Lily and Albus, who had forgotten their umbrellas and taken his.

Lily stood at the top of the hill, half way up the clearing, tucked under the arm of her older brother. The pair mimicked their parents, who were standing rigidly to their right. James' uncle Ronald had a large muscular hand clamped down on his mother's shoulder, in a boorish attempt to comfort her. James' father Harry had Lily's hand in his own, linking them all together in a massive black chain before a row of glistening white stones.

James had heard the story about the stones more then he wanted to; it had been one of the first acts preformed by the ministry after it had been re-organized. Under pressure from grieving families the ministry had erected a mass gravesite for those who had fallen during the Second Wizarding War. In truth, it was nothing grander then a cleared out patch of forest in the countryside. Originally the plan had to create massive statues in the metropolises of the Wizarding world, but of course Harry Potter had found this idea childish and insulting. He, along with a gang of supporters, had talked the ministry into creating the little sanctuary that James was dragged to every year before catching the Hogwarts Express. James loved how his father always failed to mention that the ministry was far too cheap at the time to ever follow through with their original idea.

James had nearly rejoined his family when a tug on his shirtsleeve pulled him a few steps backwards. Teddy Lupin stood behind him, his short beryl hair slicked back in the rain. His once crisp dress shirt was now soaked through completely, his pale chest gleaming under the useless fabric. Teddy had a large brown parcel cradled gingerly in one arm.

Wordlessly James removed his robe, grimacing as it peeled off like a second skin, and passed it to his god-brother. The robe fit decently seeing as James was almost the same as Teddy, though it was a few inches too short in the sleeves to be considered fashionable. Teddy grumbled his thanks, shifting the cloak over his shoulders so it would better hid his exposed chest.

"Shouldn't you be with Victoire?"

"She's alright; she's got Bill and Fleur"

James looked over in the direction that Teddy had nodded towards and true to his word there was Victoire with her parents, gathered with Ron, Ginny and Harry. Bill had lost some of his muscular build but managed to maintain his size and stood squarely over his extended family. Fleur had her arms flung tightly and around her daughter and was sobbing into her hair in an artificial, hiccupy kind of way. James sighed, loudly.

"I meant; shouldn't she be over here looking after you?"

There was an awkward silence in which Teddy lowered his eyes. The twenty-two-year-old ran a hand through his hair, pushing plump streamlets of water down his neck. Flecks of candy-colored hair scattered about his face, sticking to his forehead. James liked to think that while Teddy had most of his mother's spirit, the young man had inherited a fair bit of Remus' looks.

"About that…I was hoping you would come with me this year."

Over come by a mix of honor and shock, James followed Teddy silently, mouth hanging open unceremoniously.

They moved over a dirt path that had been transformed into a mudslide by the afternoon storm. They darted between wizards and witches, all wet, all dressed in black, all with their heads bent. They passed row upon row of white marble some actual graves while others were merely ornamental markers. James had to stretch forward, clutching Teddy's hand to avoid loosing him. Teddy's grip was exceptionally firm.

James didn't let go of Teddy's hand when they stopped, awkwardly returning the fierce squeeze, wet fingers sliding together in a fight to maintain friction. From the corner of his eyes James could see the veins popping against the back of Teddy's hands.

Teddy's eyes were locked forward, clearly red even in the darkness of the storm. James stomach twisted in a sudden bout of pity for the man. He wished he could feel sympathy but he had never known any of them, wouldn't have known them…

Teddy removed the package from under his arm while the same time reached into James robe to retrieve his wand. He tapped the package twice, its brown wrappings crunching sharply each time. The paper began to break apart into a fine powder, disappearing before it had the chance to hit the ground, to reveal a bouquet of baby pink roses. They were tied together with a delicate pink ribbon.

As if his joints had rusted stiff Teddy bent towards the earth to place the flowers on his mother's grave, the way he had since he was old enough to walk. Only this time, James noticed, the flowers were not alone. Below the headstone, which read "Nymphadora Tonks; loving friend, mother and wife", was a single rose. Its petals were drooping and trapped under the mud, turned from a creamy off pink to a dirty coffee stain color. Teddy plucked it up gingerly, slipping it into the bouquet next to his own flowers before placing it back at the base of the head stone.

As Teddy rose to his feet they both turned to see that Remus Lupin's grave had not been ignored. In fact, it appeared that someone had planted a homogeneous garden at the base of Remus' tombstone. The plants were planted in a small square, with thick leaves that resembled basil. Red blooms were scattered in the growth, each with five pointed petals that formed stars around what look to James like a small glass bead in the center of the flower. Slender vines had started to creep up the headstone, red petals just beginning to peak shyly from their buds.

James starred at Teddy questioningly but couldn't manage to catch his eye. Teddy was placing a letter in the small space between the plants and his father's head stone.

James didn't keep track of the minutes, but they stood there for the longest time. They just stood, leaning against each other and ignoring the occasional bumps from passers by. Both watched as the letter began to wilt, blank ink bleeding through the once starch white envelope.

"They'd..." James started to speak but had to stop momentarily as he conquered a stinging in his throat. "They'd be proud."

James kept his eyes on the letter, but he could hear the whimper as Teddy swallowed his sobs.

***

That night, James had never been so happy to hear the sound of a glass slamming against a wooden table top, or to see the foaming orangey liquid sloshing over the edges of the mug. When he drank, it felt like the liquid went from his mouth to his toes, warming every inch of his freezing body.

The Three Broom Sticks was loud and crowded, something not unusual for the night following the memorial. It had become a sort of tradition for Wizarding families to usher their children out the graveyard and then usher them back for a night at the Three Broom Sticks before catching the Hogwarts express the next day. James was no exception. He was seated at a crowded table, wedged in between his cousin, Rose, and Uncle Percy. Albus and Lilly had long ago been sent to bed. The mix of Potters and Weasleys were all chattering loudly; some laughing and some sobbing but all enthusiastically drinking their fire whiskies. James paid little attention to the conversation; focusing more on the crowd that passed to and fro from the bar. Last year he had managed to spot Kingsley Shacklebolt and hold down a conversation that wasn't nauseatingly nostalgic.

This year's crowd was far less exciting. He spotted Grindel Godira, author of _Gardening with Grumbumbles, _but James could care less about her.The only person of interest that James had seen all night was a women who's fox-fur muffler had the nasty habit of biting passers by, and that was nearly a half hour ago.

Scanning the crowd for particularly pretty girls James noticed a hunched figure moving the ocean of mourners. As the man passed within reasonable distance to one of the tavern's floating lanterns he recognized the man instantly. It was Harmon Lovell, the cemetery's grounds keeper. Every year he crawled down from the hills at this time, scamming free drinks off of overly emotional witches and wizards. Since he was a child Teddy Lupin had started writing letters to his father, one per year, which he left upon the grave before going to Hogwarts. James had never understood it, but he had developed a great hatred for Lovell when he caught him reading Teddy's letter three years ago. To James' distain, Lovell was making a bee-line for their table.

Harry greeted Lovell with brotherly embrace; Harry didn't know about Teddy's letters. Harmon Lovell was a man wiry man, with thin limbs and bony joints that made his rather plump stomach seem even larger. A white beard covered most of his waxy face and most of his clothes were speckled with dirt. James slid down in his chair, eyes narrowing to glare at the table. He flitted in and out of the discussion, only paying attention when he heard Lovell question Teddy.

"That was a very nice thing you did, Theodore, very nice indeed."

Teddy pulled his head off the table, blood shot eyes moving slowly to find Harmon's face. He squinted, wrinkled his nose and took a deep breath before speaking.

"I swear to god Lovell, if you're here to make fun of my le-"

"Oh Merlin's beard, no, no, no," Harmon shouted rather excitedly, slamming his fist on the table with each no, " I'm talking about the flowers."

"Oh, well…I always bring flowers." Teddy seemed disappointed that there wasn't going to be an argument.

"Aye, but planting 'em this year were a good idea."

Teddy's eyebrows twitched upwards, a shiver of silver running through his hair momentarily. He reached a hand up and began to rub his face. It was obvious that he was tired and growing annoyed with Lovell's nonsense.

"I didn't plant any flowers."

"We'll you must'a. When I locked the gates last night there were no flowers. I go to lock the gates tonight and lo' and behold; Remus' got his own bloody garden. Who else woulda done that, ye' reckon?"

Teddy a took a large swig of his fire whisky before stating firmly;

"I didn't plant any flowers."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So I was pretty sure that I had abandoned this story forever. Recently, after rummaging through my old email inbox I realized that I received quite a bit of positive feedback. Thanks to the encouragement from those who emailed me or reviewed, I'll be working full time on completing the story. Sorry to all everyone for updating so late. I've also made a minor change in deciding that James S. Potter really belongs in 6****th ****year****. To anyone who's curious, Victoire Wesley is a Seventh year. **

**Disclaimer in Chapter one :3**

Chapter Two -

James found himself greeting this year's welcoming feast with less then traditional ambition. He was tucked, shoulder to shoulder, between Alkner Fawce and Isabella du Mont. Alkner was a stocky boy with sandy blonde hair that shot up in a disarray of different angles. The two had been friends since second year, which was probably the reason James didn't mind so much that Alkner was helping himself to the pile of garlic bread stacked on James' plate. Isabella was a slender fifth year, but she could easily have passed for nineteen at the very least. Even her bare knee, which was brushing insistently against James' leg, could not explain the nauseous contractions running through his stomach. He couldn't put a finger on it, but from the moment he had gotten up that morning something had seemed wrong. It wasn't something he could put his finger, like an ache or a pain. It was something he just _felt, _like a hunch, that something was about to go terribly wrong.

"James?" Isabella called him softly, her voice somehow clear through the murmur of the hall. She had a nice voice, James thought to himself, she could be a singer. "James is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's a'ight." He mumbled his words dis-heartedly as he scraped the last two pieces of bread from his plate to Alkner's. Alkner quickly cut into the conversation, preventing James from being able to defending himself.

"Maybe he wouldn't be so uptight if you weren't so uptight against him youself, if you get my meaning."

"Alkner T. Fawce, you can mean whatever you want and I can do whatever I want. It's not my fault if the table's crowded and we're all a little squished together."

"Well, you could've helped yourself from flooding poor James with those stupid letters all summer. Honestly Isabella, if you think the first thing James wants to do with his off-hours is to try to decode your 'girl talk' then you are sorely mistaken."

"James liked my letters! Didn't you James?"

James coughed, finding it suddenly difficult to swallow his Yorkshire pudding as Isabella tugged on the sleeve of his robe. He could feel his cheeks burning up as Isabella locked her baby-blue eyes on him. It wasn't fair that they were going to drag him into the middle of this, but it may have been just a little fair that Head Mistress Crumbrick picked that moment to start her yearly address.

Crumbrick was an elder women, but not as elderly as the leaders of Hogwarts usually were. She was mabye sixty, with the wrinkles just beginning to set into her round face. Crumbrick was slightly on the heavy side, but her broad shoulders and strict posture made her look sturdy rather than pudgy. The candle light of the hall bounced off her cheeks, which were covered in a thick layer of rose-red rouge. Her lips were nearly the same shade, making her teeth gleam even more than her cheeks.

"Students!" Head Mistress Crumbrick's voice was solid, coming from deep down in the center of her chest. Her voice quivered slightly as it bounced around the room, and James wondered to himself if had done that in previous years. He couldn't remember. "It is an honour to welcome you all back after what I'm sure was a wonderful summer break."

James listened a little but didn't pay much attention to the rest of Crumbrick's speech. It was mainly for the first years anyways. Even then, James hardly listened to anything in his first year. This time he was particularly distracted by the over whelming sense of gloom. The tension in his gut was most likely the work of a pair of chocolate eyes locked on the back of James' head. He could feel the hard look of the man who lay just outside James' line of vision. James didn't dare turn around, for the risk of getting caught in a hopeless starring match was too great. Besides, he already knew who the culprit was.

The man starring fiercely at James was taller than the other professors at the table, mostly because of his youth. His skin was fair and smooth, stretched over a strong face, though no paler than that of any other Englishmen. His straight hair fell in layers, the back neck length and shorter than the near shoulder length strands that fell from his ears forward. The portion of his hair was styled upwards into a subtle fohawk. Possibly the most particular aspect of that man was the mint-green color of his hair. All together, next to the rest of the Hogwarts staff, Teddy Lupin looked out of his element. He looked even more out of place when Crumbrick bid him to stand, his cheeks flooding with a blush.

"I would like each and every student to welcome Mr. Lupin to our school. Mr. Lupin is an associate of Gringott's Bank who has graciously offered us the use of his skills. I expect you all to give Mr. Lupin your utmost respect, especially considering that Mr. Lupin will have as much authority as any other professor in regards to dealing out punishments and house points."

"Did you hear that?" Alkner asked excitedly, nudging James in the ribs, "With your brother in charge we could get away with loads of stuff."

"He's not in charge and since he knows us he's likely to pay more attention to us." James replied crossly, pausing for a moment. "And he's not my brother, he's my god brother. It's different.

"Oh come off it, Potter. I recall that when Ted was in school he gave the staff a run. I'm sure he wouldn't turn so quickly."

"You haven't hung out with him since he started dating Victoire."

It hadn't been that bad at first but over the course of three years there had been a noticeable change in Teddy's behaviour. Teddy used to be James' best mate, they use to be a team. It was Teddy's careful plotting that lead to James' possession of the Marauders Map. Now there only seemed to be time in Teddy's life for work and Victoire. It pleased the Potter family to see that Victoire's influence seemed to be 'straightening out' poor, misunderstood Teddy, but James found it deplorable that Teddy was so eager to settle down and start a family.

With the introductions concluded the night continued on the same schedule that is had been followed for decades. Desserts quickly replaced the main dishes and the majority of the boys in the hall stuffed themselves to point of almost being sick. Heavy with food the children then dragged themselves from the tables towards the dormitories for a long night's sleep before the first round of classes the next morning. James left the hall, Isabella dangling loosely off his arm, never once looking back.

Teddy sighed, closing the lid of his travelling trunk with a slight thunk. Turning round he sat on the now shut lid, slouching forward as his tense shoulder muscles complained. Supporting his elbows against his knees Ted let his head fall into his hands, styled hair falling into disarray as his fingers combed through it.

"Come on in, Victoire."

"How did you know it was me?" A quiet voice asked from behind the slightly jarred door of Teddy's bedroom. A slender, pointed face peeked out from the door, delicate fingers curling around the edge. Though Teddy's room was lit with only the light of the fireplace he could clearly see the sparkle of Victoire's eyes and the orange freckles of her cheeks. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled into a low, sloppy side pony tail and she was wearing only her pyjamas and a heavy evening robe.

"Who else would be bothering me at this hour?"

"Oh Teddy, I can't really be bothering you." Victoire crossed the room, long legs making easy work of the distance. Teddy could head the ruffle of cotton against silk as she slid onto his bed, making herself comfortable. He tried to ignore her for the most part, but she would have none of that. Her legs stretched out, feet landing gently on teddy's back. With measured movements she worked against the muscles, messaging Teddy's knotted back. He hummed contently, rubbing his eyes as he thought about the challenge of turning away Victoire. Reaching backwards he pushed her delicate feet away, shuttering as he brushed over the smooth expanses of her calves.

"Victoire not tonight, not any night."

The blonde frowned, stopping her ministrations. Victoire sat up right, crawling forward to lean against Teddy. She settled her hands on his shoulder as she nuzzled her nose into the side of his temple. "Oh Ted, you can't be serious about this."

Teddy pushed back gently against her nose, falling deeper into her embrace. She managed to pull him back with her, the two moving slowly as they became more and more so entangled. Victoire pinned him to her side as they lay atop the sheets, her hands cradling Teddy's head against her breastplate. There was a short lived moment of serenity as the lovers laid still together, but Theodore was quick to spoil it. Gracelessly he rolled onto his side, practically crushing young Victoire beneath him. She struggled against him, flailing her limbs in shocked protest. Teddy silenced her by accidently placing a hand over her mouth as he battled to climb over her. Stretching his arm to the furthest extent of its reaches Teddy snatched a thin wooden object off the surface of his bedside table. His goal achieved, Teddy settled himself down next to Victoire as if nothing had happened. The ruffled blonde, who expressed her discontent by folding her arms and huffing, starred agitatedly at a possible ex-boy friend.

"Teddy Lupin, what the hell?"

With the same impatient agitation Teddy replied with a sharp 'ssssh', immediately silencing Victoire. With a playful smile he re-adjusted the grip on his wand and tapped Victoire lightly on the nose. Her face crinkled as she reacted, throwing Teddy a sideways glance of curiosity. The older of the two couldn't help noticing the cute way in which her freckles blended together when she wrinkled her small, delicate nose. Regaining focus, Teddy pointed the tip of his wand towards the ceiling portion of his bed curtain. Theodore muttered a short Latin phrase under his breath and the spell came to life.

A bright blue, almost white, ball of light began to form and swirl at the end of Teddy's wand. The light grew to be about the size of a child's rubber bouncing ball before it shot off on its own, hovering half way between the couple and the ceiling. It stayed still for only a moment before splitting off into several individual, although considerably smaller, lights. The lights danced together clumsily, occasionally bumping together as their paths crossed. They moved about in the air like children in a primary school play, scampering to find their spot on the stage. Finally, after nearly three minutes, each light had settled on its resting place.

Victoire didn't understand at first, but then it all became painfully obvious. Teddy had the lights arrange themselves in the constellations. Victoire didn't know much about constellations, or even which arrangements one would expect to see in the sky at this time of year, but she recognized the Big Dipper and Orion's Belt. With a low gasp of admiration Victoire sunk back to rest once more against Teddy, his previous demeanour now forgotten.

"Their beautiful Teddy, thank you." Was Victoire's sleepy praise as she star gazed, drifting in out of dreams as the night grew late.

Teddy cradled the sleeping beauty in his arms, a jealousy of his peaceful lover growing his heart. He had summoned the miniature stars with the intent of installing certain calmness, but they appeared to have the opposite effect. The star Sirius shone brightly from the corner of the sky, hanging just above the edges of the imaginary horizon. To the best of Teddy's knowledge it appeared that Sirius had begun its helical rising. A sick, tight bout of anxiety began to swell in Theodore's stomach as he watched Sirius creep across the skyline. As far as he could remember, Teddy had never included Sirius as part of the spell. The star had simply appeared, created as if by its own determined will.


End file.
